


(but i'm good at being uncomfortable so i) can't stop changing all the time

by constanted



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Gen, Vignette, class swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-08 09:57:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanted/pseuds/constanted
Summary: Eleven other ways the lives of Tres Horny Boys could have gone.(or: a study in dnd classes, in three parts).





	1. magnus / blood in the thread

**Author's Note:**

> i've been toying with a thb class swap for a solid two years, at this point, but nothing i wrote ever felt right, necessarily? i've been really stuck on it lately, so i decided i'd just get out. about seventeen versions later, i settled on this idea. so i hope you enjoy!

i. totem

 

He is not a man built for rage. He is, however, built for protecting people, and if rage can help him with that--if he can channel his anger to save the good--he’ll rebuild himself. The Power Bear teaches him how to do that. After a night of training, the Bear pulls him aside, and says—

“I want you to have this.”

It’s a claw, long and sharp. It’s cool to the touch, could draw blood.

“I will be with you always if you have this.”

“I mean, I’m kinda—we’re stuck here. I dunno  _ your  _ lifespan, but I got a couple’a decades left in me—“

“Just keep it--for my sake, if not yours--in case of the worst.”

And the worst does happen, again. But the earring he’s made of the gift remains, and his anger—

In his anger, his mentor is with him. In his rage, he can be strong, he can save his friends, he can save entire worlds.

(Julia will ask him about the earring, one day, and he’ll say, it reminds me of something that I can’t remember, but it makes me strong. That is his response to most questions. He is not a man built for remembering, either.)

 

ii. valor

 

The Director tells him that his songs remind her of her family. That the memories might come in slow, but that he played during the Wars, to cheer up strangers. That’s why he’d forgotten his own work, she says. She says that she is sorry, as well.

“Now I have more music, though,” he says, and he smiles at her, “Thanks for giving it back.”

People don’t expect him to be a bard. He’s a damn good one, though, and he heals with his lyre just as expertly as he hits with his sword. He sings soft songs about kindnesses he’s seen, angry ones about blood he’s shed, and—

And at the Bureau, the Voidfish sings along, always. Johann claims that this is new, but Magnus thinks he’s maybe a little jealous. It feels natural, feels like the Voidfish was made to harmonize with him. He sings to it on nights when he can’t sleep, and it always, always, always glows for him. He brews potions of water breathing just to sing with it freely, and it brings him more joy than he’s felt in his whole life.

The Director tells him that his songs remind her of her family, and she weeps upon hearing them, sometimes, walking into the Voidfish’s chambers and thinking he can’t see.

So he plays, and he sings, and he is so  _ happy _ to have his music back.

 

iii. grave

 

Lady Istus often tells him that he is Her favorite, though he  _ really  _ doubts that’s true. If Fate favored him, he doesn’t think his life would be the way it is, but who is he to try and change his own path?

So he listens to Her. She can help him prevent future harm—if someone’s about to take a hit too big, he can stop it before they are hurt. He’s a sentinel—that’s what She calls him, at least, wrapping him in warm scarves and reassurances that the people he’s lost are safe in the Sea of Souls. He wants to join them there, someday.

She tells him, in due Time. He listens. 

(He wishes due Time would hurry the fuck up.)

He heals his friends, uses his own life force to do as much if he needs to. He makes sure their Fates last long, that their tapestries don’t end before his.

And if he needs to cast Harm as much as he can on those fucking abominations in Wonderland, killing them again and rotting them from the inside out, to do that, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. He’ll exhaust himself to keep his friends’ lives strong, to keep their strings from being cut.

 

iv. moon

 

“No dogs on the moon my  _ ass _ ,” he says, and Taako  _ laughs _ . Magnus returns the laugh with a hearty bark, his direwolf form as comfortable as ever.

It is sometimes easier to be an animal. It is  _ usually  _ easier to be an animal. Feelings become easier—for example, Taako and Merle are usually more willing to accept physical from an overexcited wolf than an overexcited human, and he is  _ much  _ more excitable as a wolf. (“Somehow,” says Taako, rolling his eyes, and Magnus’ tail keeps wagging). Hurting people is easier, too—Lucas bleeds and bleeds from his bite wounds and Magnus-The-Bear doesn’t feel a shred of guilt about it. It’s easier, and it’s better, and it’s simpler.

He jumps between selves—wolf or bear or water-elemental (for Steven and the Voidfish’s sakes) or whatever his friends need. A cat for Taako’s bad days, a lizard for Merle’s pranks, a dog for Angus’ restless energies that he can’t help but share.

(“One dog on the moon,” Avi says, holds his paw as it turns back into a hand. The Hunger descends on them, and suddenly, feelings aren’t so difficult as a human anymore. He takes Avi’s hand back, and he smiles wide.)

 

v. kensei

 

“It’s a lot like woodworking, actually,” he says, rubs the back of his head a little nervously as Julia raises an eyebrow. “The monastery was very into using art as a teaching mechanism.”

“Murder is  _ just  _ like painting.”

“Exactly. That kinda stuff. I—it’s cool, though. Really helps my carving.”

“Both with an axe  _ and  _ with a chisel,” and she laughs, a little bit, touches his hand—his knuckles sting from touch to fresh cuts, but he’s grateful to feel her nevertheless. “We don’t have too many monks ‘round these parts.”

“I know. But that’s why you like me. I’m different.”

“I like you for more than just that.”

Fighting is rhythmic, for him—a beat he falls into with grace and with passion, but flirting is another story entirely. Julia teases him for it, but when they dance, and when they fight together, they go together perfectly.

Kalen fights clumsy. He doesn’t expect the axe to hit  _ just so _ , or for it to cut deeper than an axe should. It makes sense to Magnus—it makes more sense than cruelty, makes more sense than his memories, makes just as much sense as falling in love.

The monastery, he hopes, would be proud.

 

vi. devotion

 

It’s an easy oath to take, if he’s honest. Which he has to be, considering—well. The oath he just took. He’s always believed in what he’s pledged himself to, now he’s just saying he’ll put it into action. He can protect those who cannot protect themselves, with the blessing of his Goddess and the goodness of the world.

Or, rather: of the worlds.

“Caution is wise,” chides Davenport. Davenport is wont to chiding.

“I’m not,” Magnus says. “Courage and compassion come above it. In terms of C-words I’m supposed to uphold.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Lup says, “Sounds gross.”

“What about duty?” Davenport asks, and Lup and Magnus both laugh. Davenport shakes his head. “Magnus. I’m using your goddamned oath so that you can just—stay alive for us. It’s noble of you, sure, to—to save these people, but—you can’t let that kill you.”

“ _ Or _ ,” he says, “And hear me out—I can do what I was hired to do.”

“This isn’t a job anymore,” Lup says, “This is just life. And—buddy, you gotta get time away from just. Honor and bravery—you’re just a dude. A  _ kid _ . Gotta let yourself breathe, sometimes. Take that javelin outta your ass.”

 

vii. beastmaster

 

The dog sticks by him after the fight, licking the cuts on his face. He pets her nose, takes her home, and he decides that he is going to learn how to talk to her. He is a ten year-old boy who has had much stupider ideas that have worked out just fine.

He calls her Ananke, and she is his best friend in the whole world. He’s not very good at magic, but he learns it for her, and he fights for her, and he travels the multiverse with her, and he will protect her with his life.

The crew doesn’t like her as much as he does, but she is what he has left of home—the twins understand, more than anyone else. Merle still jokes about leaving her behind. Magnus is offended, even if Ananke comes back just like the rest of them. She’s a full member of the team. She is everyone’s companion.

(And she rushes up to give the Director a sloppy lick on the face, and Magnus is embarrassed, but the Director just smiles. Merle calls Ananke dumb, Taako calls her obnoxious, but she’s latched onto them as well as she is to Magnus.

It feels right.)

 

viii. scout

 

Upon their first meeting, Carey Fangbattle and Magnus bond  _ instantly _ , because she’s the only person on this base quicker than him, and also she’s just plain cool. Magnus is more used to the rogue work that operates outside of civilization—he can tell you which flowers make the best poisons, which sounds mean an attack is being mounted miles away. Carey, though, she’s all about city-roguing. She pickpockets him in an instant, and he can flip her to an immediate flip back. Their sparring dynamic is almost perfectly in-sync, the same moves given different meanings. They’re best friends.

It’s nice to have someone who just  _ understands _ . She understands what it feels like to be in love, and she understands what it’s like to cry to good music, and she understands the value in jumping some fool out of nowhere. She doesn’t get why he’s so reckless, tries and steer him away from it, but—he’s on the front lines. That’s his method. Her work is done in shadows. That’s hers.

Methods aside, they get along grandly. He’s glad that there’s somebody out there like her.

 

ix. giant

 

His grandfather always told him that their family came from fire giants. “That’s why you’re so tall,” he says, messes up Magnus’ hair. 

Magnus doesn’t necessarily believe it—he’s tall, but he’s not a firbolg. He’s large, but he’s met folks larger than him. It feels like the kinda lie that grandparents often tell to grandchildren to make them feel more important. To make them believe that they’re more powerful than they are.

Well, Magnus doesn’t necessarily believe it  _ until  _ his hands catch flame in the middle of security training at the Institute of Planar Research and Explanation. Barry, the arcanist, says, “This wasn’t on your file,” and he smiles all wide, “You said you weren’t a mage.”

“Cuz I’m  _ not _ ,” he says, but he’s not dumb, either, and he’s read about this kinda thing before. “It runs in the family I guess.”

He feels the fire coursing through his veins, in that moment, in a way he thought only happened in stories. The mannequin he’s supposed to be hitting is set ablaze suddenly, and he breathes, and he says, “Uh. Can I get a do-over on this test after I—after I get this under control?”

Barry says, “You’re passin’ already, but, uh, sure.”

 

x. hexblade

 

Angus is the second person that Magnus has ever told about why he took his pact. Or, rather: his lack of memory related to the subject. But after Refuge, he wants to believe, more than anything, that there’s an answer that doesn’t make him a villain.

So he tells Angus that he’ll help him learn some spells Taako can’t teach him in exchange for detective services. Angus says yes and hugs Magnus very tightly. his axe is the obvious first piece of evidence, and the two of them pore over it for what seems like hours.

“Okay, so five minutes of basic Investigation tells me that this pact started about… twenty years ago. There’s arcane aging on it—“

“Uh. Yeah, that makes sense. Um. She tells me she’s been with me since I was a kid. But there’s not  _ shit  _ about her in any books, her name doesn’t even make  _ sense _ —“

“The Grand Warrior of Two Suns  _ does  _ seem like she should come up in stories, given the name,” Angus concurs. “Hm. Do you want me to ask the Director? Her library is  _ huge _ , I’m sure she’d—“

“No!” he yells, afraid, and then, course correcting, “I, uh. Don’t want to bother her too much. She’s… she’s real stressed lately, Ango, y’know?”

 

xi. divination

 

He has a lot of dreams about the end of the world. He’s always been able to see things others haven’t—seeing the future’s kind of lost its allure, however many years later. But dreams about the end of the world come more often than they should.

Julia says it’s just anxiety. “You read too much dark magic shit.”

“But it feels so  _ real _ ,” he says, “It doesn’t even feel like future shit, it feels familiar.”

“Dream-ja vu,” she says. He nods.

She dies in his dreams. And she dies in his life, too. And he sees others, in his dreams—elves who study magic with him, dwarves who tease him and teach him about life, and—and he sees so much.

He sees a future where the people he loves are happy, and he holds it close to his heart.

“Hey, bud,” Merle says, and pats his back, “You wanna focus on the present?” And Magnus shakes his head, snaps out of his stupor.

Taako rolls his eyes, says, “C’mon, Maggie, we just saved the world. Let’s celebrate instead of being stupid.”

And he does.


	2. merle / and none of you stand so tall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i have a spreadsheet laying out each of these AU scenarios by which bird fits into which class?  
> maybe.
> 
> anyway: here's a dad.

i. redemption

The beach at the end of the world is so beautiful. He says as much, and John looks at him with a face that says nothing. It’s just empty. Merle understands.

“I’m dying, Merle.”

“I know,” Merle grabs his shoulder, stands behind him. Stares at the sun as it inches down toward the sea. “You don’t have to be. Buddy, I’ve been trying to tell you for more’n seventy years, now. You don’t have to be like this—"

“And if I die, I won’t be.”

“Becoming better’s not a matter of matyrdom, Johnny-boy. I’m gonna heal you. Do you—“

“I don’t want to live, Merle. It’s—“

“It’s not an option. C’mon.” And he Lays on Hands for as long as he can. The saltwater reaches Merle’s knees, the tide going out as they stay like this, calm and collected. “My job is to help you become something good. If you’re willing—“

“And I am, but—“

The sky goes deep pink, then purple, then blue, and then black. Merle feels a breeze, and he knows that it’s time.

“No buts. Let’s go. There’s some people I’d like you to meet. I don’t think you’re a lost cause, and I don’t think they will, either.”

 

ii. the celestial; the chain

 

Sycamore chirps on his shoulder, and Taako shushes her with a sharp glare, and the owl doesn’t do anything, keeps chirping.

“You can dispel it. We already have a noise machine over here—“

“Because I  _have_ to be loud, asshole—“

“Shut up! This is a  _stealth mission_ —“

Sycamore flutters off, obeying Merle’s silent command to observe the area—it’s pretty empty, maybe a few traps, but otherwise, safe. She triggers a trap quickly, and Merle hits it with an Eldritch Blast.

“Savin’ your asses,” he mutters, and Maggie laughs. Taako elbows both of them, which hurts considerably more than Merle expects from an elf of his size. Merle casts Light on the walls, calls Sycamore back to him. She perches on Magnus’ shoulder, because she likes to be tall, but she takes the tiny piece of meat that Merle feeds her.

“She doesn’t need that,” Taako says.

“She  _likes_ it.”

“She’s a vessel of Silenus, who—if I recall, is a goat person who lives in  _literal heaven_ , so I don’t think she needs  _meat_.”

“Who’s being loud now?”

Merle takes Sycamore off of Magnus’ shoulders, wraps her up in his robes like a papoose. And he starts waddling down the corridor, ready for what may come his way.

 

iii. land

 

The moon is a little bit too far away from the beach for Merle’s comfort, but he’s got to make it work somehow, and he’s pretty decent at making things work.

The Director is kind about it. She says, “I have a pocket dimension that goes to a beach, if you’d like to use it. It was my father’s. He was—he was a druid.”

“And you aren’t?”

“No, it,” she almost laughs, “It didn’t quite call to me. If you’d like to make sure it’s kept well, you’re certainly a better guardian for it than I am.”

So he goes, and it feels more like home than Hekuba’s farm ever did. Magnus and Taako join him on occasion, if only to see what he does with his free time and make sure he’s not being “gross with plants.”

(He is maybe a little bit gross with plants).

The sunsets on this beach, this conjured thing of beauty, are so warm, so beautiful in their color, that he can’t help but feel that this dimension was made for him. The Director is cagey at best about her past, so he won’t ask—he’s stupid, not dumb—but he wants to thank her, somehow.

He’ll figure it out, someday.

 

iv. champion

 

He’s got enough winds in him to heal the whole party, but unfortunately, he can only heal himself. He thinks he’d be a better healer than Lup jokes he would be, but, hey. He took her down in yesterday’s spar session quicker than anybody else, so.

He’s damn good with a warhammer, is the thing. Maybe it’s stereotypical, but, hey, Big Smusher’s led whole armies. And it suits his frame. He’s tiny for a dwarf, sure, with a short excuse for a beard and a lack of geological knowledge, but the hammer doesn’t judge his worth by that, not like others do. So he can fight, and so he can win, and that’s what he’s good at. Bluntness—both in terms of weaponry and social practices. He knows his strengths.

Davenport calls him the strongest man he knows, and Merle can’t help but be very flustered by that, but, hey, he’s a simple dwarf, he’s easy to please.

  

v. glamour

 

John asks him what he does other than summon demiplanar godlike beings, and Merle tells him, quite simply, that he is a performer. That he learned from gentle elementals, that it got him out of his family’s secluded life.

“Well, I talked for a living, and I’m sure you’ve heard enough of that, Merle. Can I see what you do?”

And Merle does, sings and plays in the way he was taught. He’s been reluctant to do this with John, feeling that it might break the rules of Parley, that it somehow will ruin the bond he’s managed to forge with him. But John simply looks entranced.

John cries. He says he hasn’t cried in many years, not since he realized that nothing mattered. And Merle says, crying is useful, oftentimes.

“Isn’t the point of life to feel, to be kind?”

“You’re charming me, Merle. Let’s—can you dispel it? You’re so wonderful, so good, I know you can—“

“Listen to me, John, please. If I’ve got you like this, you won’t kill me. So, John, I need you to listen. You—you have a good heart, under all the…” he waves his hand, dismissively, “Eatin’ worlds, thing. And I just need to know this, honestly, John, and I trust you to answer this honestly.

“Are you my friend?”

 

vi. divine soul

 

His family laughs at the irony of their least dedicated son being the one who inherited Pan’s blood. He rather likes it, though—shows them not to judge a book by its cover. He is sent off with his uncle to train—they do not get along, but Merle learns plenty anyway, because Merle is nothing if not persistent. He can heal, and he can fight, and he does it all passably.

He is supposed to be made into a leader. It is the nature of people with Pan’s blood to be leaders, his uncle says.

So Merle, being Merle, runs to the city and changes himself completely.

Davenport is the first he tells. Dav recommends he tell Lucretia, considering it’s been three years, but Merle says, “Eh, she’s a smart kid, she’ll’ve figured it out by now.” Which she has. But Dav is good about it, Dav is kind about it.

Dav asks him, one day, “I’ve heard… stories about sorcerers. Back during the War. Ones like you, and they could fly.”

Merle blinks. “And what about it?”

“Can you?”

“What’s it to you, Skip?”

“I wanna fly with you.”

“Well, why didn’t you ask that in the first place?”

 

vii. school of conjuration.

 

Merle takes Taako’s hand, knowing that their thoughts are mutual, here. And he blows his only seventh level spell slot on Plane Shift, and—

And the Ethereal Plane is so beautiful, so wrong, right now, surrounded in eyes that Merle almost recognizes, but can’t place. He has read books about this place, but he’s never seen it up close, he doesn’t think. He’s got a shitty memory, as far as wizards go. So he’s been told.

The eyes blink at him as he starts trying to cast another spell to get the three of them back to Wonderland, and, in Magnus’ case, his fucking body, and—

And they blink again. And again.

He casts Dimension Door on his companions, sends them back to where they belong, but he lets himself stay, for a moment. He forces eye contact—well. Partial eye contact. There are too many eyes for Merle to look at, personally, considering that he only has one. This thing, whatever it is, oughta share, to be frank.

It says nothing. He says nothing.

He salutes it, and he transports himself back to the Prime Material fast as he can, and something about that feels so, so familiar.

But that’s a problem for another time.

 

viii. gloom stalker

 

He takes Mavis on an adventure, once, because she asks him to. She’s afraid of the dark, but she thinks this’ll help get rid of it. And Merle’s no fear expert, but he’s not sure that this is his smartest stepfatherly move.

Nevertheless: he teaches Mavis a couple of spells, and they set off into the forest. She clings to his leg, sometimes, if things get a little bit too ghostly, but he can’t blame her for that. They reach the cave he was looking for—the cave he often retreated to when he first ended up in these parts, and he takes her in. A couple of bats fly out, but she doesn’t flinch.

And he casts Daylight on her necklace, and the crystals of the cave light up, shine and cast color on the stone walls.

“It’s nice, in’t, Mavie?”

“I—dad, this is—this is so _cool_.”

“There _used_ to be a nasty ghoul that lived in here, but you ol’ dad knocked it outta here.”

“Very cool.”

“He was a friendly ghoul, actually. Very accommodating. Offered me tea and everything, and it didn’t even have poison in it.”

“Are you sure? You might’ve been poisoned. You wouldn’t know.”

“Ah, I s’pose I wouldn’t.”

  

ix. swashbuckler

 

Barry is calling for some “extra help, please!” but Merle’s kind of putting on the performance of his life, right now. The knights guarding the Light happened to have underestimated him, and he’s milking it, because he’s pretty charming, if he does say so himself.

Anyway. The kid’s in love with a bard, he should understand the value of panache, by now.

His strike against the charmed knight misses, but he hits again, keeps it smooth and clean. Doesn’t want to make _too_ much of a mess, here. He leaps over to Barry, and Barry rolls his eyes, a little bit.

“You don’t have to use _that_ much flourish.”

“Says the man with the flaming sword.”

“Touché.”

Merle trips up the next knight, allows Barry to pin her, Lucretia to strike her down. He makes a run for the Light—he’s faster than he looks, after all. It’s overall, not his personal _worst_ retrieval. He trips up a little because Taako’s set a trap, but he toughs it out.

He stabs his rapier onto the Light, picks it up, and teases Barry the whole way home.

“What’s the matter with a little theatricality, anyway?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Lucretia grins, and she nods emphatically.

 

 

 x. zealot

Merle Highchurch likes to think himself a forgiving man. And he is.

In battle, though, he is significantly less so. Pan has given him the strength to turn rage into power, and who is he to deny a gift from God?

(Well, actually, he’s had a couple of talks in the Celestial Plane with the guy, and He apparently isn’t gonna budge. Merle asked for nicer powers, he really did. But Pan’s a stubborn dude, and violence is a simple part of nature. Apparently. Merle’s not quite sure about that).

He’s a hard guy to kill, a harder guy to dissuade. He rejected his family, and became a man of the cloth just to rub it in. He can do whatever the fuck he _wants_ with their holy word—he can turn it into something bigger.

And if something bigger is fighting and destroying that which goes against nature’s goodness, then he’ll do that in a goddamn heartbeat.

 

 

xi. drunken master

 

So maybe he’s a fool. He’s not gonna deny that. If Misters Axe Magic and TV Show wanna make fun of him, they can do that, but, hey, he’s saving their asses regardless. He’s an idiot, but he’s a _fun_ idiot, and he’s a _tough_ idiot, so, look, if he’s swaying around in fights, it’s for a reason, and that reason is to save their asses.

The Director seems to get it. She is a fighter herself, apparently, and Merle can’t help but see himself in the woman. She asks him about his training, analytic, and when he makes jokes about the blackout parts of it, she looks concerned, but unsurprised.

“It was a good time, y’know? Religion never really spoke t’me ’til I started learning the applications. Didn’t hurt that I got free booze outta it.”

“I… suppose so, Merle, yes,” and she takes a sip from her fishbowl of wine. “Faith was never really my area.”

“Still isn’t mine. It’s all aesthetics, Madam.”

She laughs, shakes her head. “How old’s this brew?”

“Two hundred. Think it’s from the Swords Coast. Tastes like it.”

“And what does the Swords Coast taste like?”

“Shitty.”

“I’m rather enjoying it.”

“It’s just so goddamn alien, if you get me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love merle. thank u.
> 
> comment and kudo!


	3. taako / into the stratosphere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! finals, etc. anyway! here's a cool dude.

i. wild magic

“Hey, handsome,” he says, because of  _ course  _ he ended up in the Astral Plane, and of  _ course  _ he gets spotted, and of course the person who spots him is the most attractive man he’s seen in his whole life, “Little bit of a mistake with the ol’ magic—“

“It’s about time you checked in, Taako from TV,” drawls the man, “You’ve died—“

“Uh, okay, I’m  _ not  _ dead, though, I’m just—I got that  _ wild  _ magic, ya feel,” the man is squinting at him, “And I’m gonna be back to the Prime Material in about…” he counts on his fingers, “Well, depending on the time difference between the planes, about forty-two seconds from—“

And he’s back, Magnus breaking his Rage to look at him confusedly. Which, great. Awesome. This’ll help.

And  _ of  _ course Handsome followed him.

“You can’t just  _ run out _ ,” he yells, “That’s not how the cycle of life and death and undeath  _ works _ —“

“Again, I didn’t  _ die _ .”

“No, you’ve died  _ nine times _ —“

“What? That’s not how this even  _ works _ —“

He casts a quick spell, and finds himself still screaming, wordlessly.

“What the fuck,” says Handsome. “What the fuck.”

“It’s complicated?” Merle offers, and says, “Are you gonna kill us?”

Taako signs a quick “Fuck you,” at his companions.

ii. thief

It’s a necessary part of life on the road, is the thing. Inevitably, the two of them are gonna get left alone, so he might as well take what they need. Ingredients, mostly, but money and baubles, too, maybe a trophy to remember the experience. He takes a sword from a warrior they’ve hitched with, some crystalline orbs from false diviners, some poisons and acids from apothecaries. He shows off his collections with a stubborn sort of pride—to Lup, who looks upon them with excitement, to Magnus, who asks too many questions, and to Merle, who steals them from him more often than Taako would prefer.

Collecting is a force of habit. It’s easier to do than proper goodbyes, than parting gifts, because it’s personal, and it’s automatic revenge for whatever might go wrong in the future.

He leans on his shortsword, smiles, on the hilt of the Starblaster, freshly back from fighting off some pillars of black tar—only his second death in sixty years, because he’s just that fast.

He looks at his team, pulls out some bullshit crystals from the soothsayer who scammed them out of the light last year, and he says, “So, you guys wanna know what’s comin’ next?”

iii. sun soul

“You don’t seem like a fire-y type, sir.”

“It’s not like I liked my training, kid, but it’s what I’m good at. Don’t you have fuckin’—god class, or whatever?”

“I’m working with the Director on wizardly magicks today, actually. But I’m just, uh, curious, sir, about why you still do this kind of thing? I’d like to learn how to fight, and, uh, defend myself, and you’re not so armoured, and I’m kind of little, so I thought it’d be—“

“I do it ‘cuz I have to. Helps me get outta shit. I’m a flip elf, y’know? Not much for head-on, and, uh. What I was taught to do is a way to flip outta shit quick.”

“Y’know, my grandpa almost sent me to a monastery, back when my dad died! He said it was less lonely than any alternatives and that it would toughen me up and also I’d be in Neverwinter which is where he is so that’s nice.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s better than livin’ on your own, that’s for sure. I did it because we—I got kicked off a caravan, y’know? and it’s just—we—I thought it’d be better than bein’ alone. Outcast.”

The staff on his back warms a bit, and he exits.

iv. knowledge

He and ol’ Oghma aren’t really what Taako’d call  _ friends,  _ is the thing. Nor do they have the weird parent-child relationship that he hears other worshippers talk about—that’s fucking gross. No, no, Taako considers himself as something more akin to a  _ rival  _ to his god.

On most planes, this is okay. Oghma’s a competitive guy—the god of intelligence oughta love a good debate, some nice rhetorical trickery. And Taako likes it too, likes that he has to put up a fight to get what he wants, because he’s  _ really  _ good at arguing. He’d consider it a talent. Davenport calls him stubborn. Which, yeah. He is. It’s a part of pragmatism, a part of his religious duty. If anything, it’s piety, he says, and Dav’ll roll his eyes.

Lup doesn’t really get it either, which is tougher. But she found herself in running wild across the universe, and he found himself in this line of work, this need to learn everything about everything, anything about anything.

On some planes, his god considers him a heretic, which is, in his opinion, even more badass. But it’s all in the nature of research—and he always, always gets favor back. He’s pretty fucking good.

v. dreams

Merle fails in his attempt at Parley, again, and Taako decides he’s had enough, and he’s gonna talk with this dude head on. Lup has some summoning shit, and that’s good, because Vore Morrisey is pretty damn beat up once she gets him on board. And the two of them knock him out, he’s here for an hour—

And John dreams.

It is less a singular dream and more the dream of more people than Taako has ever imagined. Cacophony, yelling, screaming—and an odd sense of wholeness. The type that being too close to the Hunger during the end of the world brings. It’s gross. It’s fucking gross.

Taako prefers to see these people—victims, Magnus calls them—as dust. He really does. But they are so clearly not, they are so clearly still alive—his aunt is in here, Taako thinks. Greg Grimauldis is in here.

He comes back to himself. He breathes. And he stares. “John, my man, let’s chat.”

Nothing happens.

And he says, “What’s up, asshole?”

And no one answers, but things quiet down. And John’s face—Taako imagines, considering Merle’s description and Lucretia’s sketch thereof—approaches, and it stares, unblinking.

“Tell me what your fucking deal is.”

vi. storm herald

There’s a strongman who he latches onto as a kid, in a circus that he and Lup have joined. She’s been spending all of her time with the fire eater, and that doesn’t really seem like Taako’s zone, so it was inevitable that he found  _ himself _ a Cool Mentor.

And so he finds this strongman. Human, scarred, old. He was a warrior, once, he says. Taako asks him why, if he’s so heroic and tough and whatever, he’s part of a circus.

And he says, “Because it pays, and because I can do this.”

He screams, and the man is surrounded by snow in the dead of summer, and Taako feels his own resolve mount as the flakes hit his face. 

When the snow dies a minute later, Taako says, “Teach me how to do that,  _ please _ .”

He loves magic. He loves it more than most things. It’s number three on his list of the three things that he loves, after Lup and cooking. And this magic is  _ cool  _ in every sense of the world, and it’ll make a  _ cool  _ counter to Lup’s fire thing.

The man looks at him, sizes him up.

“Kid, do you ever get  _ real  _ angry?”

vii. arcane archer

“Piercing,” says the Director, harshness in her tone. She’s way too harsh, lately. “I want you to strike down twelve mannequins.”

And he aims, rolls his eyes, fires, like it’s nothing. It strikes down the twelve dolls she’s set up, and she catches it in her bare hand.

“Again.”

“Can I go?” Magnus asks, excited. Too excited. They’ve been training for  _ three  _ hours. She shakes her head.

Taako shoots a bursting arrow directly at the Director. She catches it. He knows she’s resistant to fire damage, anyway—it won’t hurt her.

“If you’d like to finish quicker, Taako, I’d suggest that you follow my instructions. Your next mission will require you to take down masses of enemies, and transmutation—“

“Sorry, all out of Magic Shots.” He shrugs. “We don’t even have our  _ mage  _ with us, why the fuck are we training—“

“Merle has a family matter to attend to. You, I assume, do  _ not. _ ”

Magnus raises his hand, asks again, “Can I go?” and Taako nods, says, “Yeah, buddy, go on.”

The Director glares, the red in her eyes brighter than normal. Taako grins, lazy.

She dismisses them after Magnus shoots down two mannequins, says, “Prepare better tomorrow.”

Taako doesn’t listen.

viii. great old one

Lup’s powers are natural. She eases into them with a degree of competence and confidence that Taako can’t help but envy.

His are  _ less natural _ , to say the least, granted to him by some long-lost neon monster from the depths of the Celestial. But he’s powerful, too. So, hey, they’re still equal, in terms of twin-level.

It makes the Starblaster more tolerable, frankly—he can talk to her in peace, without interruptions or questions. They don’t need their secret language if he can just walk into her head, and if she can just talk to him there. She says he should be more open, but, look—he likes privacy.

The whole Telepathic Communication thing is also great for scaring the shit out of people. Mostly Magnus and Barry, but Lucretia, too—humans are, generally, very easy to scare the shit out of. But they grow to like it, too, in spite of his want for them to stay away from him.

And he does open up. He does. He’s just quiet about it. That’s what his patron values, and he values it, too. Secrecy, knowledge—

That’s what he does. And he’s goddamn good at them, natural or not.

ix. horizon walker

Dates are easier, given that he can just walk on over to Kravitz’ place. His brain gets fuzzy there, sure, but that’s just the Astral Plane.

“No it isn’t,” Kravitz says, “It should be clear, here—if you have a headache, we can head over to your base—“

“Nah, it’s—it’s all good. Wanna have the sweet soul water you’ve been talkin’ about.”

“It’s not—it’s not water. And we’re not consuming souls. That makes it sound like I’m evil—“

“You  _ did  _ try and kill me first time we met.” Taako raises his eyebrows. “C’mon, I usually only ever visit the Ethereal, lemme see that good good Astral cuisine!”

“ _ Fine _ .” Kravitz smiles, kisses his forehead—an odd, numb-but-pleasant feeling, less cold than on the Prime Material. “I ordered out—there’s a trainee who makes damn good pastries from the natural life here.”

And it is a damn good pastry. A bit dry, but, hey, he’s not going to judge too harshly. It’s pretty desolate around here. The Plane of Fire has much better food, but, look, they have spices on  _ spices  _ there. Here, it’s mostly dead stuff.

“I really—I enjoy these meetings, Taako. I really do.”

“Wanna meet up in the Celestial next time? Heard ‘bout some good ambrosia.”

“I’d love it.”

x. vengeance

“Ten,” he says, points his sword at her. “Nine.”

“Taako,” she says—

“You know my principles. You know what you did. Are you fucking surprised? Oh, and it’s eight, by the way—“

She puts her shield up. Fucking protection fighters.

“Lup wouldn’t want this,” Magnus says, but he’s got his wand aimed at Lucretia, too.

“Too bad we took different oaths,” Taako says, “Too bad she’s fuckin’ dead.”

“This is a lesser evil,” Merle says, “I’m not raging, nor’s Dav, I think—I think we need to all take a breath—“

“Oh, the old using the oath out of context, Merle, smooth—seven. Don't get me off track again. Six.“

Magus casts a Resilient Sphere around Lucretia—Lup’s signature, because he’s an asshole—

And Taako has an idea.

“There's--we have a third option!”

xi. lore

He’s a charismatic fella. That’s why he was on TV. He’s had to try a lot to get this charming, but, hey, what’s the point of fame if you don’t have a tragic backstory that you solved with grit and hard work?

Well. He did kind of fuck up the “fame” part of it, but, listen, the fall from grace is a  _ vital  _ part of any star’s story. And he’s read a lot of stories. He’s not a fucking nerd—that’s… somebody else he knows, he thinks. But he’s not a fucking nerd. He’s just amazing at inspiration, amazing at magic, and amazing in general. If he’s being honest. Which he’s not. Honesty’s for chumps.

(The Chalice is not a pleasant experience, to say the least. It wasn’t him that fucked up, sure, but—Sazed ruined his magic forever, made it difficult, stilted. Near impossible to inspire.

Merle offers him a drink, when they’re back on base. Magnus has already agreed, and Taako joins them—no one says a thing.

“I was on TV,” he says, “I could’ve gone back on TV.”

“Yeah, kid,” says Merle, “I bet ya still can, though.”

“Do you think—“ Magnus starts, and stutters, “Do you think we made the wrong choice? By not changing?”

“Probably,” Taako says, “But what’s the use of that kinda thinking?”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[here](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1WSexNvymvRz0x3MMcaFBv67JcnA_wo4Q8khiCiWxZ3k/edit?usp=sharing)** is a link to the spreadsheet of every team comp in this fic. jeez oh man. my favorite is, of course: warlock mags/monk merle/bard taako, but, look. that's me.
> 
> tumblr @yahooanswer
> 
> please comment and kudo! this fic was a lot of fun. i love you!


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